“I found the mystery woman last night. I was on Facebook and saw her picture on another friend’s page.” It wasn’t too big of a lie. It could have happened that way.
“Who is she?”
“Her name is Delaney Cooley. I’m volunteering at the thrift shop this morning. If she’s there I’ll listen and see what she has to say.” I emphasized the word listen.
Frank didn’t say anything for a moment. “Okay. Just be careful. And thanks.”
At least this time I got a thanks.
* * *
By nine I sat in my car across the street from Walter’s townhouse. I was hoping to catch his sister-in-law, Fiona, coming or going. I’d bought Norton a chew toy as an excuse to stop by. Weak, but hopefully it would work. After I sat for about fifteen minutes, I decided to just take the toy to Walter. I knocked on his door. Fiona opened it. She gestured me in, closed the door, and gave me the once-over like she had the last time.
I looked right back at her. Fiona’s caked-on eyeliner was cracking. Her eyes were red from crying and she smelled like cigarettes. She wore a Sons of Anarchy T-shirt and a black rose necklace.
“I bought Norton a toy.” One of us had to break the stare down.
“What’s your story?” she asked. “Are you after Walter?”
“No.” Jeez. What was her story? “I’m in a relationship.” That sounded awkward to me. Like I was making it up. Defining Seth and me in four short words felt wrong. We were so much more than “in a relationship.”
“Then why are you back here?”
“Like I said, I bought Norton a toy. Just a friendly gesture.” Norton scampered in when he heard his name. I patted his head.
“In my experience there’s always obligations behind friendly gestures.” She did the air-quote thing.
What to say here? I’m sorry that’s been your experience? That’s not how it is on a base? However, since Walter had said people had quit stopping by after he’d been questioned, that might not hold true. And I felt a little guilty because there was something behind the gift. I wanted to talk to Fiona. I held up the chew toy. “I’ll just leave this then.” And get the heck out of here. I tossed the toy and Norton chased after it.
“Listen, blondie—”
“It’s Sarah.” I might want out of here, but I didn’t have to be spoken to so rudely.
“I can tell plain as day, you’re dying to ask me a question. Spill. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Darn, my expressive face. Knowing her background, I didn’t want to tell her what I thought the “worst” could be. But why not just throw the real reason I was here out there. “I heard you and Alicia had a fight right before she died.”
Fiona’s face changed from tough to tragic just for the flick of a moment. “So. Sisters fight sometimes. Is your family perfect?”
“Hardly.” Really, this didn’t seem like any of my business, but I’d started so I might as well press on. “I heard that your fight was so bad you left in a huff.”
Fiona patted her pockets like she was looking for a cigarette. “I’ve been around enough to know how you should act on a base. I told Alicia she needed to pull it together.”
That didn’t make sense. “Pull it together about what? From what I heard, Alicia was well liked.”
“I’m sure she was. Everyone always loved Alicia.” Fiona didn’t make it sound like that was a good thing. “She didn’t think she needed to apologize.”
“To who?” I asked.
“That snooty woman she fought with. Our fight was nothing compared to that one.”
Every nerve in my body simultaneously leaped to attention. “What woman?” Maybe a neighbor.
Fiona shrugged. “She didn’t know I was here. But she ranted on about paying your dues and being respectful. And about a bunch of other nonsense I didn’t even understand.”
“Do you know her name?”
“No. I was in the kitchen. I didn’t want to get involved in whatever was going on between them. Alicia used to be cool. Before she met Walter.”
“What did the woman look like?” I asked.
“I didn’t see her. I was in the kitchen.” She drew each word out for emphasis. Her voice indicated that she thought I was stupid.
“Would you recognize her voice?”
“Maybe. Snooty. So darn snooty.”
That didn’t narrow my pool of suspects much. Most of Becky’s friends were snooty and sometimes people from Massachusetts came off as condescending even when they weren’t. “Alicia didn’t tell you anything about the woman or the fight?”
“She had enough on her mind and didn’t want to talk about it.”
I wondered what that meant. “Did you tell the police?” Did Pellner and Bristow know this?
“Why would I bring it up?”
“Because your sister was murdered.” I was beyond astonished.
Fiona thought for a moment. “You can’t trust cops. They twist everything. Believe whoever they want.”
I thought about the long list of arrests I’d read when I was digging up information on Fiona.
“The cops who are looking for Alicia’s killer are good men.”
“Yeah, just like the ones that believed my exboyfriend when he told them I attacked him with a knife. I was sleeping when he called.”
“You have to tell them. It might be important.” I’d certainly be telling them, but it would be better from her.
Fiona stared at me and then shrugged. “Okay. Now excuse me, I have things to do.”
She yanked the door open and more or less pushed me out. Our conversation only added to my growing sense of unease.
* * *
I showed up at the thrift shop at ten sharp. Last night I’d messaged Zoey to tell her I wouldn’t be at Jeannette’s house until noon. I put on a blue bib apron and tied it around my back. The shop was already open and filled with volunteers and shoppers. I grabbed a feather duster and went in search of Delaney, but didn’t find her. I asked Eleanor if she’d seen her.
“Last I saw her she was carrying things in from the shed outside,” Eleanor said. “You might have walked right by her.”
“Thanks,” I said as I headed toward the back. When the shop was closed people could leave items they wanted to donate in the shed. By the time I returned to the sorting room, Delaney was coming in the back door juggling several bags and a box.
“Let me help you with that,” I said. I tossed the feather duster aside and took the box out of her arms and set it on a shelf. Delaney set the bags down with a plop. Her nose was red from being out in the cold. “I’m Sarah Winston. I can help you with this.” I gestured to the messy sorting room.
Delaney introduced herself. “I could use the help. Lots of people clean out after Christmas. We’re overflowing with decorations right now.”
“Maybe we should have a two-for-one sale to see if we can reduce the inventory,” I said as I opened one of the bags. I pulled out a plush teddy bear dressed as Santa.
“That’s a great idea,” Delaney said.
We worked together quietly for a while before I asked her where she grew up and how she met her husband. I didn’t want to grill her about what I’d overheard right off the bat.
“How come you volunteer at the thrift shop?” Delaney asked.
I thought again about what Judy Bruce had said to me about hanging around base. “I’ve volunteered here for four years. It’s a way to see friends and help out at the same time. My ex-husband used to be the commander of security forces. We lived up on Offutt Road.” It was funny to think that after leaving base only two years ago there were people around who didn’t know CJ. It was like we’d been erased. “Right across the street from where Alicia lived.” It hadn’t been right across the street, but close enough. “I still can’t believe she’s . . . gone.”
“Did you know her?” Delaney asked.
“Just a bit from volunteering here,” I said.
“She’s the one that talked me into voluntee
ring. And now she’ll never be here again. I wish I would have done it sooner.”
“People must be so scared because they haven’t caught who killed her.” I almost shuddered at the thought.
“Things have been a little tense. People aren’t talking as much. But every day that goes by makes life return to normal a little bit more.”
“We can’t live in fear all the time,” I said. “I heard she was poisoned.”
Delaney looked around to see if anyone else was in earshot. “Me too.”
“Who told you that?” I asked. “It’s all been very hush-hush.”
Delaney looked around again. “Becky Cane. Do you know her?”
Chapter Thirty-Three
If stomachs could drop, mine just did. “She told me too, but asked me not to tell anyone.” I hated lying to this young woman. “When did she tell you?”
“She was sobbing in the bathroom after the funeral. I don’t know her that well, but couldn’t leave her in there alone. That’s when she told me. Becky was hysterical and kind of just babbling. She swore me to secrecy, saying that no one was supposed to know because it could hamper the investigation.” Delaney glanced down. “I feel bad because I mentioned it in front of a couple of volunteers the other day. It just slipped out.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it.” As far as I could tell it hadn’t gotten around or I would have heard.
“You’re the only other person who knows about it.”
I nodded. Thoughts swirled, eddied, and slipped away. I took this in and combined it with Judy’s phone call from last night saying that Becky’s marriage was just fine. I thought about Colonel Cane’s comments about loving his wife, and the flowers. That negated Becky’s excuse for being out walking in the terrible ice storm that night. I had this dreadful feeling that the only way Becky would know about the poison was if she was the murderer. Everything she’d been telling me had been a lie. I’d been running around looking for other people to point the finger at. What an idiot.
“Are you okay?” Delaney asked. “You look kind of pale.”
“I don’t think my breakfast agreed with me. I’m going to have to go.”
“Do you need a ride?” Delaney’s forehead was creased with concern.
“I’ll be fine.” I grabbed my coat and went out to my Suburban. Only then did I realize I was still wearing my volunteer apron. I would have to return it later.
* * *
As I drove over to Frank’s office I had another dreadful thought. Delaney knowing about the poison could put her in danger. Maybe I should go back and warn her. A horn honked behind me. I had stopped in the middle of the road without realizing it as I’d debated whether to go to Frank or turn back to Delaney. I chose Frank—let him deal with all of this.
I was convinced that Becky had murdered Alicia. It was like I’d been peeling layers off an onion only to find it was rotten inside. CJ’s voice came into my mind because he’d said it more than once. You have theories, but no proof. I needed to go to Frank with proof. I felt stupid for believing Becky. For believing that I could solve this when Frank, Pellner, and their team couldn’t. I thought about Ginger. She believed Becky too. That thought didn’t give me any comfort though.
After I arrived at Frank’s office, I waited impatiently for thirty minutes because Frank was in a meeting. I’m sure I was driving his administrative assistant nuts with all my standing, pacing, sitting, and sighing. I flipped with no enthusiasm through an old base newspaper. Everything I thought I knew was through the filter of what Becky had told me. I had believed her. Finally, finally he came out along with a man I didn’t recognize. He wasn’t in uniform, so there was no name tag for me to read.
Frank gestured for me to come in. “I don’t have a lot of time. The cops and robbers meeting is in a half hour.”
“Thanks for seeing me.” Then I spilled everything that I’d learned from Delaney this morning. I told him about all the little lies Becky had told me from not being invited to a gender reveal party to saying Ed Flowers’s wife had a terrible temper. And then I added the big ones about her marriage, why she said she’d been out the night Alicia died. I poured out everything I had pieced together.
“You’ve been poking around?” he asked.
“What part of Becky is lying didn’t you get from what I just told you?” I stared at him for a moment. “Becky killed Alicia.” The thought chilled me. I’d trusted Becky. I’d been alone with her. I’d been suspicious of everyone from Colonel Cane to Zoey. “Although, you’ve never, ever admitted to me if Alicia was poisoned or not.”
Frank loosened his tie, then immediately tightened it back up. I’m sure a body language expert would have a field day interpreting that. “We’re waiting for lab results still. At first it was presumed that someone used a chunk of ice to kill her. You were the first one to bring up poison. It shook us all up.”
“That must be very difficult for Alicia’s husband, Walter.”
Frank nodded. “But he wants to find out who did this. There’s still suspicions and rumors going around about him.”
“I can’t imagine. You lose your wife and then people point the finger at you.”
“I’ll look into what you’ve told me.”
“Becky’s DNA was on Alicia,” I said. Frank frowned at me. “She told me. Gave me a plausible explanation.” I ran through what she’d said, that it happened at a meeting where she’d hugged Alicia.
“Yes. She told us the same thing.” Frank stood. “I have to get going.”
“What about Delaney? She could be in danger because of what Becky told her,” I said.
“Or Delaney could be the one who did it and is casting doubt on Becky. These things are complicated. You could be the one in danger from one of them. It’s why I asked you to just listen.”
I didn’t believe that. “I did just listen. Delaney told me something, which is why I’m here.”
“Thank you for that. For your own safety, I’m releasing you. No more listening. I never meant to put you in a bad situation.”
“You’ll talk to Delaney?” I asked.
Frank nodded. “Don’t worry about this. Please.”
I nodded. Now I could head over to Jeannette’s house and get some work done.
* * *
I stopped at the grocery store and bought a couple of lobster rolls to eat for lunch on the drive over to Jeannette’s house. This had all become way more complicated than I was prepared for. But I couldn’t let it go yet. I had one more call to make, one that might help Frank. Once I got to Jeannette’s house I called Eleanor.
When she answered, I asked, “Do you remember that last Spouses’ Club board meeting the day before Alicia died?”
“I remember going,” Eleanor said. “Why?”
I wasn’t even sure why I was calling. Oh, that was a bunch of hooey. I knew exactly why I was calling. Despite what I told Frank, what I told myself, I had to follow through. I was in it one way or another. Forgive me, Frank. “I’m not sure. Did anything unusual happen?”
Eleanor paused. I could hear school announcements in the background. “Becky seemed to be having a bad day. Although to tell the truth, that’s not a stretch for being around Becky lately.”
“What makes you think that?”
“She always makes us some kind of smoothie when she has us over. They are delicious and spiked with alcohol. Becky brought some of them out on a tray, passed them around, in order of the spouse’s husband’s rank, if you can believe it.”
“I can believe it,” I said.
“She had given everyone theirs except for Alicia.”
“Why didn’t she give one to Alicia?”
“Because she dumped it over by accident. She went and made another one. In a few minutes she came out looking flustered and apologized.”
“That sounds like Becky. She always wants everything to be just so.” It took a second for the implication to hit me. Poison. You would want to make sure the right person got the glass with the poiso
n.
“Why are you asking all this? It’s strange.”
“I know. I’m trying to piece things together. Who all was at the board meeting?”
“Becky, of course, me, Judy Bruce, Delaney, Alicia, Cindy, and Ginger.”
Did any of them have a reason to kill Alicia? “Okay. Thanks.” So much for letting this all go. Even though Frank didn’t want me to be involved any longer, I knew too much to give up now. And Becky knew that too.
* * *
I worked for an hour before I realized I was hungry. As I ate my lobster rolls, I thought about Fake Troy. About seeing him at DiNapoli’s. Could it mean he was local? Did he have some connection to Jeannette’s brother Troy? Someone had set up that camera, and the most logical person was Fake Troy or the other person who had been in the house. I kept feeling like this house had secrets. Maybe it was time to find out what they were.
Zoey sent a text saying she wasn’t feeling good and couldn’t come in. I sent a text to Harriet on the off chance she had a little time to help. The sale was Saturday and that left four days to finish everything. Harriet responded that she could come over for an hour or two before she had to take her niece to an appointment.
Fifteen minutes later Harriet showed up in a paisley, swirling dress that was reminiscent of hippies or gypsies. Scarves decked out her neck and bangles jangled on both arms. Her only nod to winter was the purple leggings that must be keeping her legs warm. Her hair was braided. I’d never seen a woman who went from one drastic style to another like Harriet did. It seemed like most people settled in to a certain aesthetic. But I didn’t know Harriet well enough to comment.
“Thanks for coming over on such short notice,” I said.
She tugged at the scarves like they weren’t entirely comfortable. “Your other helper doesn’t seem too reliable.”
Sell Low, Sweet Harriet Page 18
